Saturday, December 2, 2017

All said,
be it Padmavati, Sexy Durga, Satanic Verses, MF Husain’s "Saraswati", Taslima Nasreen's, “Shame”
, Nicholas Kazanzthika’s “The Last Temptation of Christ” or Meera Nair's
"Fire", what has been pilloried and strangled is the right of
expression and speech, to criticize, to creative freedom and use the creation to
critique a system, thought belief or a
person.

However
dispassionate I get, I cannot totally forego the traces of mischief and may be
a plot for possible commercial windfall in naming a painting or a movie
provocatively. This is why I feel SunilKumar Sasidharan must cross his heart
and confess to or refute the motive I allege him of.

MF Husain had a host of other names to caption
his painting of a nude decorated woman and “Saraswati” was a silly choice. SanalKumar
Sasidharan had a plethora of names from which to choose one for his movie.
Neither did! That either ought to be stupid, specious or cunning.

The
content of Sexy Durga as I can understand has nothing titillating or sexy about
the protagonist. So a name that did not have that prefix would have fared
uneventful. Just “Durga” would have avoided these controversies. Moreover when
asked to change the name the producer over imposed “XXX” on the alphabets “exy”
in the word SEXY. Wasn’t that trifle suggestive and mischievous?

Now what
right does the puritanical (sic) brigade, be it the Hindutva forces, the Islamists,
the Rajputs or any others have to proclaim fatwa and order violence upon an
author, a film maker or a painter for her/his oeuvre?

The much
fancied the then young Prime minister Rajeev Gandhi who we thought would be a
harbinger of fresh young air, disappointed when he succumbed to Muslim vote
banks and proscribed Salman Rushdie’s “Satanic Verses and also circumvent the Supreme
Court order in the Sha Bano case. Those of you who do not know the 10 years of
turbulent and hounded life Salam Rushdie lived, after Ayatollah Khomeni ordered
he be killed, must read his autobiographical work “Joseph Anton”. The whole civilized
system and governments in multiple countries succumbed to the mad mullah in
Tehran who ordered killing of Rushdie. That idiot may not even have read that
work. Democratic societies world over being held to ransom by Islamist forces
began with the “la affaire Salman Rushdie”.

Now when
you say that the limits of expression and creativity are subservient to another
person’s like and dislike, you are being a censor and an obscurantist. If you
say that terrorists have a right to kill people who put up cartoons or
paintings and even novelettes criticizing or lampooning their God or prophet,
you are only endorsing the terrorists’ argument that rest of the World must acquiesce
and follow their unitary beliefs and not be different or dissenting. What then is the society you are expecting to
have? A homogeneous, vacuous, scrawny moronic world? What then about the
colourful diversity of thought, belief system, culture, tradition, languages etc
that adds vibrancy and interest to life? Plow them down under and cover us with
black cloak like Grim Reapers?

In Kerala
the ancient art form of “Chakiarkoothu” is a medium to taunt, lampoon, mock, criticize,
rubbish, shame, rebuke and rebut a person or system. Kings and rulers were mercilessly
critiqued and mocked by the artists; the current art of mimicry is precisely a
variant of the old “Chakiarkoothu”.

As much
as one has the right to be hurt and flaunt offended sentiments, a writer or an
artist must have the right to offend and critique.

If
religious sentiments and emotions were hurt by using a prefix to the name Durga
or the movie ‘Padmavati”, well what must first be banned ought to be the
mythological treatise such as Ramayana, Mahabharata or the Bible. Wherein there
is surfeit of incest, misogyny, sadomasochism, rape, violence, sex, sleaze, bestiality,
sodomy and whatever you can think of as offensive to the pristine sentiments. I’m
told the 12th century treatise of Jayadeva, “Geetha Govindam” which
describes the fantastic relationship between Krishna and his maidens the
Gopikas , has enough and more that would pale D.H.Lawrence’s , “Lady Chatterly’s
Lover” and Charles Devereaux ‘s “Venus in India” . Should they be burnt or proscribed?
Well should Khajuraho and Konark be pulled own and the many Hindu temples too?
Should Naga sanyasis be rounded up and forcibly clothed or forced into the
ocean with millstones around their necks?

It is
utterly ridiculous and inane to be anguished over a movie, its name, a painting
or a book. At least here in India where
we have great tradition of dissent, heterogeneity and argumentation as well as
tolerance. To argue that the Abrahamic world are far sinister and intolerant is
a childish argument because the choice we have is, should we accompany them and
stay like them in a barbaric archaic mental existence or use the greatness of
Indian culture to look forward.

Tuesday, November 7, 2017

If Liberty means anything at all , it means the right to
tell people what they do not want to hear.” George Orwell

This post is not intended to pillories you or accept your
version of the incident absolving any culpability in the ghastly suicide that
happened in the Collectorate premises.

My concern is only at the utter lack of respect and reverence for democratic and civil rights that, you
ought to have, as a senior civil servant shown to Cartoonist Bala who caricatured the incident and the powers
that are.

I wonder what you as the candidate at the Civil Service
interview would have replied or may have replied to perhaps the question put to you regarding the constitutional
provisions guaranteeing free speech and
expression. Very curious!

I’m sure that you are not oblivious of the Supreme Court’s
ruling on Section 66A in April 2017. The honourable Court observed in its
ruling on the draconian Section 66A
thus, “…. it invades right to free speech , every expression used in it is
nebulous. It is clear that Section 66 A arbitrarily excessively and
disproportionately invades the right of free speech and upsets the balance
between such right and the reasonable restrictions that may be imposed on such
right.”

You by your act ordering the arrest of the cartoonist took a
miserably weak position using the tattered apron of Section 66 A to hide like a
weasel.. This is the same narrative and reasoning ( if one may call it
reasoning) often used by political parties and religious outfits to bludgeon unpleasant
truth and satire . The right to offend is a sacrosanct right and if you feel
offended by a caricature, a novelette or a statement it only shows the shallowness
of your thought and philosophy. Plowing down the author is the easiest way and
that is the path weaklings take to.

You showed that there is no difference between an intolerant
mind of the Charlie Hebedo killers and
folks who hound free speech and expression in this country. To find a civil
servant among that unsavoury ranks is a sad thing for this country.

Tell me what difference is there between the act of
arresting Cartoonist Bala and decapitating or gunning down people over a
caricature? What difference is there between you, arresting cartoonist Bala and the Siva Sena thugs who ensured the arrest
of two girls for voicing their disagreement on Facebook over the shutting down Mumbai after Bal
Thackrey’s death? What difference is there between your act and that of the mad
Ayatollah Khomeini who ordered death for Salaman Rushdie for his magnificent
novel? What difference is there between your act and that of the feral bigots
in Bangladesh and India who hounded Taslima Nasreen for being candid about the
plight of Hindus in Bangladesh in her novel “Shame”? What difference is there
between you Mister Sandeep Nanduri and the
Hindutva ideology that banished MF Hussain? The list will go on and you
may find yourself in a very notorious and depraved company.

This October the centenary of the October Revolution was commemorated
by the working class, world over. I wonder if you are aware that , in
India the October Revolution worked as a
accelerator , a catalyst that actuated progressive literature. This triggered a
fecund environment for egalitarian and socialist thoughts in the people. This
was heartily harnessed and channelised
by the leaders of the Freedom movement too. Indeed the Brits used the draconian
legislations to pulverise such expressions in literature. But they survived and
stand even today as immortal hand-downs to posterity.

Not so long ago during the pre-independence days expressive people,
editors of news papers, social workers were all subjected to banishment by the
Brits and their cahoots, the Princes, for their candid speech, writing and
literature. It’s a pity that there are remnants of the Raj amongst us today. Now, you underlined that
ominous reality through your act of
arresting the cartoonist for doing his job. A sad day for Indian democracy and
Civil Service!

I will have to remind you
the words of Gopal Subramaniam the SC lawyer , he said, “Poetry
encouraged fearlessness of expression and this cannot be restricted because of
the use of the name of a personality. Freedom to offend is also a part of
freedom of speech”.

Monday, September 4, 2017

Come Onam, celebrities and somebody who is anybody is seen
on Television channels reminiscing the Onam of the past and of their childhood. Amusingly young film actors in their early
twenties proclaim, the good old Onam that once was and ruefully reminisces the
days of the mythical Emperor Mahabali. Wonder if they confuse Mahabali with
Bahubali. That will be the last straw!

Having been through 58 Onams , I guess I have a fair right
to pen a few words on it, when Onam was not a commercial melee and ‘athapookalams’
were not embellished with pesticide laced flowers from Tamilnad and Karnataka ;
when veggies were not doused in toxins; where there was a feeling of elation
and success the night before “Thiruonam”, when the local sartorial expert would
honour his commitment and deliver your new Onnam shirt & trousers, skirts &
jackets. There was no ARROW and Tomy Hilfigers then to walk in and pick one’s
ready to wear ‘Onakodi’ dresses. Moreover elders did not have the vanity to
indulge and there was no Maria Saharopovas and Tendulkars to ape.

‘Athapookalams’ had individual flair, even the ones in
street corners. They were made in different layers and in clay. 3, 5, 7 &
the jumbo ones with 9 layers. Cow-dung paste was laced over to act as glue and
petals and flowers were stuck to them. Each household chose their own size of ‘atha-thattu’.
Flowers were procured from around the neighbourhood. The cunning and watchfulness,
the networking among children’s group enabled to scout and identify houses that
had flowering bushes and foliage. Then it was the clandestine hunt early before
dawn, crawling and climbing over fences and walls, duping noisy watchdogs that
tell the master of little thieves set out to stealing flowers. Some good Samaritans
willingly let you in and allowed you to collect flowers for the ‘pookalams’.
The nip in the early dawn air, the smell of blooming flowers, the freshness of
fallen flowers nevertheless, the sheer motivation for it all cannot be explained
and have to be felt.

The ‘pookalams’ at street corners and squares where managed
by the slightly older folks and was enlivened
through the day with film songs played over loudspeakers that were not noisy and
often a persevering bloke on a bicycle would undertake nonstop cycling mission around the ‘pookalam’.
I still cannot relate the significance of that during Onam but it provided lot
of awe and fun. Then, the ubiquitous swing that remained a sine qua non to usher
in Onam!

Then while we were in our late adolescence and into our
teens the venturing to cinemas to see the block-busters that were released for
Onam. Often they were dominated by either a MERRYLAND Studio production or the
UDAY Studio production- a mythical grand story of the war of Gods or the chivalry
of a ‘Vadakan pattu’ folklore.

The grand melee and finale on Thiruonam day was unforgettable.
It generally would be modest kind of embellishment of the ‘atham’ that morning
as the full and blown out decorations were reserved for the late evening when
the ‘atham’ was given a grand flowery embellishment. The exercise would begin
after the sumptuous Onam ‘sadhya’ in homes and folks would gather by evening
and rework the ‘atham’ for the finale. Women folks cook and got ready ‘elapams’.
The ‘atham’ was covered with ‘thumba’ a local shrub and the ‘elappams’ are
deftly enshrouded in the shrub. Folks got ready with primitively made bows and
quiver full of arrows. At dusk ‘onapattu’ is accompanied by folks (mostly boys)
shooting arrows into the shrouded ‘atham’ to pick out the concealed ‘elappams’.
When finally all the ‘elappams’ are retrieved the ‘atham’ is carefully removed off
the ground using a suitable kitchen utensil without damaging the layers and
left on a sill by the front gate of the house. It stays there till probably the
next Onam beaten by weather- sun and rain and slowly withering away.

As every aspect of human life changes over time, so does
Onam and the feeling it gives. But something that can be vouched for is the
simplicity and freedom from vanity and conceit Onam of yore lend.

Monday, July 10, 2017

In an impassioned essay quoting ten acclaimed literary
creations that has adoption as the storytelling theme, The Guardian said, “A profound human experience- and also a
brilliant plot device- adoption has inspired endless stories from Shakespeare
to the contemporary”.

Those are in literature. But outside, in the real world
adoption is yet to resonate among human beings as an epoch and ground breaking
act of love, caring, compassion and pathos. If a pack of wolves could adopt a
‘man child’ in Rudyard Kipling’s ‘The Jungle Book’, why not man?

A few years ago, a Dutch acquaintance narrated why he and
his wife decided not to beget children. They were married after the Second
World War and during the acme of the Cold war era. Nuclear Armageddon was
imminent and many like the gentleman and his bride decided not to bring forth
children into a world that was hurtling down inexorably into cataclysmic
termination. In retrospect that may seem to be a highly cynical decision, but
it is all the more pertinent today and sapient. Today it’s the man-made
existential threat that hulk like the more definite threat of environmental and
ecological melt down but also the utter chaos & anarchy in social, economic
and political environment. Well the sleight of the hand of human kind is
reflecting in all the dire prophecies.

I was driving past a city school this morning and the
traffic was moving as fast as the fastest tortoise ever could. It was rush hour
for the school and there was long winding queue of school kids waiting to go in
through the half open school gate. May be some five hundred of them! Little,
young, cheerful looking lads and girls all in their adolescence. I wondered
about the less than a decade from now, when these kids pass out at different
stages in their education, what prospects does the world hold out to them?

In a world already burdened and plowed down by over
population and consequent unsustainable living, already vitiating the natural
environment and heralding ominous climate change pushing human race farther
into perilousness; in a world where political and social environment offer nothing
but despair; where macabre of religion and xenophobia eclipse acts what we
often proudly attribute to human sensibilities, what can these kids and hundreds
and thousands of them expect from the World? Nothing but stolidity and
desertion. The Gods are silent too even if they did exist.

In India we may touch the 1.5 billion mark in population as fast
as in a decade and little more. Which means well within the fertility age of
our progenies. An exhortation to the fecund generation to restrain from
begetting would be termed as selfish and pessimistic alarm. But it is not,
certainly! In fact it will be an act of cruelty, selfishness and crime if human
race continues to be driven by the irresistible social and cultural urge,
exhortation or custom to procreate. This world as it is hurtling along offer no
solace or hope for mankind. More because humankind is in an irreversible kamikaze
gear and obstinately so.

This is where adoption can be a nobler and wise deed than
the act of copulating for procreation. Almost two thirds of infants in India
are malnourished. “World Bank data indicates that India has one of the world’s
highest demographics of children suffering from malnutrition – said to be
double that of Sub-Saharan Africa with dire consequences. India’s Global Hunger
Index India ranking of 67 the 80 nations with the worst hunger situation places
us even below North Korea or Sudan. 44% of children under the age of 5 are
underweight, while 72% of infants have anemia!”

To argue emotionally that biological bonding cannot be
replicated or substituted with acts of philanthropy is quite naïve. Aren’t
there enough instances and stories happening around us to the contrary, where
an artificial bonding proves to be far more potent and enduring than the
trappings of cognateness?

Leaving all that aside, one hard look at the world around us
will make one rethink of ever begetting and there are plenty of lives waiting
to be rescued from what otherwise would be a sure dystopian life.

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

It is often
quite true that empathy is nonexistent in a person or hard to come by because
he or she may not have been through a situation to feel the scars desolation can bring about. But at the same time what distinguishes or what we daringly
claim to distinguish man from beasts is empathy! The feeling for and oneness
with a fellow being! I firmly believe so. Yet often we are found barren,
indifferent smug and abounding in or given to pompous or aphoristic moralising.
Ironically some video footage that are viral on the NET from the wilderness of
Africa tell us that beasts sometimes outflank man in empathy and acts of
compassion.

Yesterday a
few of us got together at home and we chanced upon a discussion on the trauma
of child abuse and the indelible scars that
it leaves upon the person as he or she moves
through adult hood and even late in life.

A few things
became apparently reinforced to me from the argument we had. Men are men like
the clichéd quote of some idiotic politician, “boys’ are boys” while commenting
callously on sexual violence against women. Indeed men are men that (may be
with some exceptions, mercifully)! But the vast majority regardless of their
education and sophistication are egocentric chauvinistic porcine.

Is it not
true about people confiding their deepest mind to even a comparative stranger
or a new acquaintance, even traumatic experiences and thoughts which they
otherwise bear like dark menacing shadows in the farthest corners of their
minds? Is it not true that friendships develop early in life and is it not also
a fact that bonds that develop in later life may stay stronger than a bond
through years of familiarity from the cradle? One fellow was so sure that such
a thing as confiding one’s deepest secret and very personal matter is
inappropriate and suspecting and that it belittles the person and her or his
acceptance as a decent human being. Utterly,utterly obnoxious thought,I argued.

“Who among
you would arise from a severe traumatic beating very early in childhood and
then look life in the face?” I asked the women folk. I explained seeing their
confused faces. I rammed it in further. They had to nod their head in utter
disbelief when I narrated. But then was it not rather naïve and foolish to
disclose that to another person and worst of all one’s spouse- husband? This is
where the male chauvinism and hypocrisy boils over, one that I mentioned
earlier. Worst of all women endorse the right of the man to be offended and
rattled by the news of the abused childhood of his spouse. Utterly shameful I
had to say, particularly in a moment when his understanding and acceptance
would serve as panacea for the years of mental trauma and profound horror she was
plowed under. But that is not to be and men are men and boys are boys. It
sucks!

It takes courage
and that deserts most men and women to be honest with the new people in their
life about their past, to admit the
trauma of their abuse as part of what makes them who they are rather than
trying to enshroud like it’s something
to be dishonoured and penitent about. That is
potently honourable and courageous! “A frank brave heart she has triumphed over
pain and set a courageous example by leading her safely out of the dark
stalking shadows of her abuse." Some women cannot understand that any man
could accept the courage and perseverance of a woman, whereas they seem to be
more comfortable with the existence of a spouse who would be enraged and offended
by the unveiling of the abused past of the woman and his relating virtue of the
bride to her virginity. Is it not natural for men to be so? To be piqued by
such a past? A trite and a pity I was indignant!

The
epilogue- “by calling herself Cinderella she is standing her ground. This isn’t
a girl running to a man to be rescued. This is a girl saying here I’m scars and
all take it or leave it, but don’t expect me to be something that I’m not. A
fairy tale can’t get more empowering! Cinderella is without a future and
resigned to her fate only until she finds the courage to stand up to her
abuser, her stepmother. Once Cinderella decides to try and attend the ball,
when she realises her worth of a better life, that she doesn’t have to live
this way, then amazing things begin to happen before the prince even enters her
life.”

The story of
the ever present prince is just the extended narrative of male priggery and
chauvinism. For it is fed to us no Cinderella shall be complete without the chocolate
faced rubicund charming young Knight or a Prince on a horse back!

Yet what is
ignored is the Prince bewitched by an evil spell cast on him and transformed to
a toad, could break the spell and regain his form as the charming prince only when
the beautiful princes kissed him and broke the spell. Yet this narrative and
its ideal is lost in the wilderness of what is our society.

Friday, April 28, 2017

I have come across men and women too, of whom I long to keep
no memory and I have come across a few men and women of who, I would always
think with pleasantness and with deference.

He was a man in his early sixties and a doctor. It was in
2010 that I first communicated with him through comments that were exchanged on
my blog. For an amateur writer I was
easily excited with an endorsement of sort on my views and writings per se, it was fantastic. There were
disagreements too but he was quite impressed with my style of penning. We found that we were from the same city. He
was living in the UAE and his spouse was in Thiruvananthapuram. It was then
that he messaged me that he would like to meet me and another friend of mine
with whom he developed acquaintance on the blog. That chap was a fantastic
writer and a passionate poet. His verses used to drip with feel and pathos.
Doctor was very impressed with him.

I would not digress here. So there, then was the Doctor,
during his visit home arriving one evening to meet us with a bottle Glenlivet Single
Malt. What fabulous way to toast a friendship, I mused! It was during the
course of that evening which lasted till late into the night that I told a
little bit of myself. It was the immediate aftermath of a nerve racking and ravaging
turmoil in my life and the Doctor could gather a little bit from my
conversation, though pride ensured, I revealed little as possible or necessary.

But the doc ( as I began to address him) got a complete
status report of myself from my friend and he invited me to go to the UAE and I could
use his home as a base for any venture I want to prospect there. “That can be
your home too.” he said. I was wordless!

I soon reached Sharjha and he was at the Airport driving
some 125 kilometers from Fujairah, where he lived. I lived there for more than t
a month and he was absolutely unbelievable. It was an apartment with a huge
bedroom a living room and kitchen. The very first day itself he picked up his mattress
and began sleeping on the sofa in the living room. It was awkward that he did
that and told me, the bedroom was mine. He ensured the kitchen was packed with
food and asked me to feel free to use whatever I wanted in there. I was quite embarrassed
to be a piggybacking on him. He out rightly refused to take money from me and
after finding that one day I replenished something for the kitchen by picking
up things from the Super market down below, he chided me and sent down an
instruction to the Super market to provide me whatever I wanted , but not to
take any payment from me. It was awkward but humbling! I remembered the
Shylocks I have encountered!

Doc ensured that the liquor cabinet was always full and we
used to sit and chat over a few drinks in the evenings after he came back from
his clinic past 8 in the night. In course of those conversations we got to know
more about each other, our life, our past, our disappointments and triumphs.

One day, Doc offered to help me revive my wrecked business
back home. I was utterly speechless and plowed down by his offer. It was
gracious of him, but I told him the chapter was closed.

We are in touch often and meet up when he is in
Thiruvanathapuram. And again during one of those meetings Doc was at his altruistic
self. My daughter was going abroad for her studies and he egged me to feel easy
to ask him any help that I require to provide for her.

I wonder often why at all must a person who has had no long
term connect no relationship through blood or clanship offer and actually selflessly
do things for you. Perhaps such people with their acts goading the world to
turn around!

Can’t agree more with H.G.Wells, “One of the darkest evils
of our world is surely the unteachable wildness of the Good”.

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

The question that I ask myself when folks fret over what
they claim is their personal space in social media, as if it were their private
fiefdom and abode, that they bought paying a few million. Worse still, social
media have brought about a paradigm shift in the definition of friends and
friendship. That sucks. It really sucks!

My understanding is there are no written rules in social
media but civility and keeping away gauche is an established conduct that users
must bear in mind. Civility doesn’t mean being tacit in face of conventional
narratives or being mute when encountered with strong opposition to opinions, nor
does it mean indulging in language and opinions which are not only gauche but utterly
fit for the sewage tank.

A few years ago Karan Thappar interviewed two well-known
political figures- the two who came to prominence, one by her association with
a political icon but later carving a niche for herself and notoriously too; the
other rode into fame through sheer shenanigans that were examples of infamy and
full of guile. Karan Thappar’s prodding interview was too much for the man to
handle that it must have been like strapped to the electric chair and bombarded
with high volts of electric. He gave up unable to stand scrutiny that Karan Thappar
attempted through his questions and he fumbled to pull out his lapel mike, drank
a glass of water and escaped looking miserable and disheveled. The woman fought back with arrogance though
her discomfiture was there to see. Many who sympathised with her accused
Thappar of fielding uncomfortable questions.

What irked me was the allegation against Thappar and that he
was uncivil to a lady and for incessantly prodding in the interview. The
question is when you are a politician it is like being on social media and your
past and present conduct & words are scrutinised. If you cannot stand up to
that well quit -it is at your peril if you do not. Is it wise to blame the interviewer
for asking inconvenient questions?

Likewise if one choose to be on social media and expresses
one’s opinion he or she must be prepared to take accolades and brickbats with
equanimity. To frown, fret, fume and cry foul when countered with disagreements
and varied opinions is nonsensical and silly. One must either be able to handle
it with reason and élan or must accept to be a sore loser; one can perhaps even consider changing
one’s opinion in face of substantiation and reason and that is not vain in any way. But to hold on to one’s contention peevishly accusing the whole
world of being unfair and uncivil is childish obstinacy.

Some folks cannot stand satire and sarcasm. Sarcasm is more
or less the sine qua non of argumentation.
That, particularly in the Kerala milieu! Being impish about that is infantile.
Unfortunately lamenting about hurt sentiments is a national pastime and an
unworthy pursuit zealously followed these days. This is when any opinion that
is against the popular narrative is considered offensive and that is absolutely superfluous
and primitive.

What I strongly feel is persuasions do matter. We form opinions
based on our awareness and knowledge that we strive for and acquire. It is when
blinkers are put and an inane bullheadedness & refusal to see fresh avenues
and opinions blind us that we fret. We fret when the comparative cocoon of our long
held beliefs and judgments, our bias and with it our comfort is threatened. We
would rather be an infantile infliction than be a matured being who is willing to
change his ideas and opinions when encountered by reason, and fresh idea, however foreign it
may seem. Is there something belittling in accepting that we were wrong and yes,
thankfully the new awareness helped us? Faith & creed, political leanings
and cultural fancies are crutches that we latch on obstinately and often
unwisely.

If I do not appreciate a strong opinions and a strong
critical definition of my opinion, I feel I must not air the opinion in public.
For if I air it in public, I must be prepared for critical evaluation, else I
must stay shut.

Unfortunately in the times we live the social fabric has
been so corroded that a narrative or opinion that is not acceptable to the
popularly held belief is frowned upon and even rubbished in feral ways. We just
do not want to let go our belief systems and come out of the comfort zone we
are cocooned in. For that we wail, we cry offense and then if all that fails we fume, for
our vain pride takes the better of our being!